Someone else's life instead
by whisperinglately
Summary: Violent...don't hate me for writing this...Pony follows Dally out of the hospital..."we headed for the west side of town" "what did he want bullets for?"


a strange and deranged idea  
  
yeah, pony wouldn't normally do something like this but johnny had just died and he had a minor concussion....  
  
okay, this is harsh. very, horribly violent.  
  
i feel weird to even post this cause it's a scary story that someone would do this. i feel weird just having wrote it. it's so sad and scary. i don't usually write stuff like this...  
  
right after johnny dies and dally slams his fist against the wall in the outsiders....  
  
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I followed him. Maybe it was because I didn't want to be alone in the room with Johnny. Johnny's body. Maybe I didn't want to have to go home and tell Darry and Soda and Two-Bit and Steve that Johnny was dead. I didn't care if Dally yelled at me. Hit me. I didn't care. Johnny was dead and nothing else mattered.  
  
Dally was about to take off in the T-Bird by the time I limped into the parking lot. He was leaning over the wheel, and he pressed hard on the gas when he saw me. I couldn't let him leave me here. Alone. I kind of through myself into the road and I could hear the car coming for, and I didn't think it would stop. I thought Dally would run me over and I'd be dead. Not that it would have mattered.  
  
But he didn't. I almost wished he would have. He cussed at me so loudly that it hurt my head and since I wasn't going fast enough, he got out, picked me up, and threw me into the car. He was back in and speeding before I sat up. I looked at the speedometer and it was riding quick. It felt like we were going fast. Cars were jumping out of his way as we headed towards the west side of town. Why were we going there? Dally wouldn't of answered if I asked. He just drove. He finally talked to tell me to get something out of the glove box. What did he want bullets for? He pulled the gun out of his belt and then another one out from under the seat with one hand while the other one kept steering. What were the guns for? I vaguely thought, loading them like he said to do.  
  
We stopped suddenly and I lurched forward, almost pulling down on the trigger of the gun I was holding. Dally had the other one and held it as he kicked open his door and told me to get out. I didn't move at first. My body was hurting so bad and I just wanted to die. I looked at the gun in my hand and then looked at Dally who was screaming at me to get out of the car. Dally didn't usually scream. He usually yelled. I stumbled out and cussed as I saw where we were. Two-story mansion-looking place with Corvettes and Mustangs parked all around it. This is where the Soc's had ran off to, probably planning ways to kill us another time. They were listening to the Beatles I could hear and talking loud while probably drinking and smoking and...I followed Dally as he walked through the grass and kicked through a window before someone in the yard could stop him. Dally went through it and he probably cut his legs on the broken glass but I didn't know because I went through the front door. Dally had his gun pulled out and was pointing it at the guys sitting on the couch. They had stopped talking, but the Beatles music was still playing. They were just sitting there. Dally was grinning. "Cowards. Cowards. Cowards! Not so tough now? Huh? Huh?"   
  
There were five guys on the couch, two on stairs. Some were still on the lawn; I could see them through the door I left open. One of the guys on the stairs said something. "Put the gun down, man." That was stupid. Why, so they could beat us up? Even though they were still bruised and cut up from the rumble, there were enough of them to take us down easy. But Dally had a gun. "You don't want to do this." The guy kept saying. Standing beside him was the tall one who had tried to drown me. The guy talking probably did, too.  
  
"Bull shit." Dally said, laughing a little. And one of the guys who were outside jumped through the door and lunged at Dally. It was my first time I had heard a gun-shot and the second time I had seen someone die that night. But it wasn't the last. Dally starting shooting everyone. The guys on the couch fell over each other and the designer t-shirts were ruined as blood seeped through. They were mice and Dally was the snake. They deserved it, didn't they? Look what they did to Johnny...I was a snake, too. I had a gun. Now was my chance. I couldn't help before. Johnny had to do it on his own. I had no control before. I darted upstairs as Dally tried to shoot at the guys outside. The tall guy had ran that way. He had tried to kill me before. This was all there fault. Always messing with us for no reason. Beating up Johnny. Johnny cried. He cried. He didn't deserve that. And it was their fault that all this stuff had happened, that Johnny was dead? Wasn't it? I found the guy in the bathroom and shot him.  
  
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end  
  
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End file.
